Melodies and Memories
by Stooksss
Summary: Sidney Marque has struggled to lead a normal life for as long as she can remember, but that just wasn't in the cards for her. After being held captive and experiencing near fatal withdrawal, Dr. Spencer Reid is her light in the darkness. Can he help bring her back out of the shadows?
1. Chapter 1

**_Sidney_**  
There was no way to tell how long I'd been kept in the cement room. I didn't even know if one would call it a room; a pit, perhaps. It was only about as long as me, just over five feet, and most likely three feet wide. There were no doors. Only a grate in the ceiling that let light in. Whenever I would fall asleep, whoever had taken me would somehow set a bottle of water and a piece of bread next to me, along with an empty bucket. I tried not to drink or eat anything at first, but I couldn't resist. I knew the pit was indoors somewhere, as the light overhead never changed. Had it been otherwise, I could have tried to keep track of the time.

My mind was always my greatest enemy. It would never shut down; it would never be at peace. Scenarios of all kinds constantly played on repeat and there was no solace until I was put in a clinical trial for those dealing with bipolar disorder with acute anxiety as a primary symptom at age 17. By some sort of luck, I didn't get the placebo. What was even better was that the drug worked. I'd been on it for the past ten years, taking it at the same time each and every day. Until I was abducted.

When my mind slowed down and I was able to function normally, I began focusing on the one thing that had never let me down: music. My parents made me go to piano lessons starting when I was only seven. It was a chore at first, but once the mania and anxiety started becoming more prominent, playing was the only thing that could even remotely bring me back down.

I was on my way to a recital when I was taken. I was a professor at the local university where I taught music history and advanced piano. The music department was having its spring show and all of the instructors had to play. My car had been low on gas, so I stopped to fill my tank. It caused me to run late, so I jogged from the parking garage towards the music hall. The heels I was wearing made it difficult, so I stopped to take them off. That's when I was hit on the back of the head and put into the fucking cement cell.

Withdrawal was never something I'd thought about. I was precise when it came to my medication; always taking it at the same time and making sure I had the money for my refills. I hadn't even bothered to look at the symptoms of its withdrawal because I'd been so certain I would never be affected. Shame at my own hubris made it that much worse.

The fever was the first to come. Chills were unrelenting as sweat seeped from my pores. Second was difficulty breathing. My chest tightened and my breaths became shallow over time. I assume the fever and lack of oxygen helped to cause the hallucinations. Whatever little grasp I had on time was completely gone and my brain played a nightmare on repeat right in front of my eyes.

 ** _Spencer_**  
I was searching the apartment one more time with Morgan. The unsub had been in the apartment of every other woman he'd abducted, but we hadn't found any clues of him in Sidney Marque's home. In the other four, all of the mirrors had been shattered. Not in Sidney's. Her bathroom cabinet had been opened and the contents thrown about. He had to have found something that made him uneasy; something that he hadn't realized. He'd made a mistake in his choice of victim and I needed to discover what it was.

Since the unsub didn't shatter the mirror, it was safe to hypothesize that something in the bathroom had triggered his temper. He saw something that surprised him; something that he hadn't counted on. He had made a mistake in choosing his victim.

None of the items thrown about seemed out of the ordinary. Floss, toothbrush, hair ties and the like. Things one would find in plenty of homes. I crouched down to look closer at the floor. I was missing something that was right in front of me. I closed my eyes and took a breath, regrouping. My eyes were passing over something and I needed to start fresh. When I opened them again, I saw it. Behind her plunger, in between it and the corner, was a prescription bottle. Every other victim had been in perfect health. He thought Sidney was the same way, so whatever her ailment, it wasn't physical. I put a glove on and picked up the bottle. When I saw the name, my heart sank.

"Derek, call Hotch," I yelled out.

"What's going on?"

"We don't have as much time as we thought. She doesn't have her medicine and as long as he's had her, she's most likely experiencing symptoms of withdrawal. She has a prescription for an antipsychotic, one my mom had tried when it was still in its experimental phase."

"Are you saying Sidney is schizophrenic? None of the other victims had any sort of mental illness."

"It's not necessarily schizophrenia. For the unsub to take Sidney, he had to have been oblivious to her illness. Even properly medicated, those with schizophrenia tend to be on the antisocial side. Sidney is a professor and a musician. She's constantly the center of attention. Schizophrenia is unlikely. I've read that the drug was given in trials for depression, anxiety, even epilepsy."

"How did we not know about this? Why didn't the police fill us in? Medical conditions are always noted." Derek seemed angry, which I was able to understand. When coming into an investigation, we rely on the local authorities. When they skip something, it hinders the entire investigation.

"We need to go. Now. Withdrawal from antipsychotics is serious. We need to get to her."

I suddenly felt a connection to Sidney after this discovery. She knew what it was like to struggle with being different, with trying to function normally in society with a mental illness. Being different is rough. Only those who have experienced it themselves truly know the pain of being ridiculed for something out of their control. People could be cruel and unwilling to accept anything different. We needed to find her. I couldn't let her die this way.

 _ **Sidney**  
_ Part of me was aware that what I was experiencing wasn't real. In the back of my head, I knew it was a mixture of chemicals in my body playing tricks on my mind and shutting down my body.

The other part of me was terrified. I couldn't catch my breath and the hallucinations were getting more and more real. It felt like someone was forcing me to carve piano keys into the floor with a rock I'd found in the corner.

"I don't want to play for you," I sobbed. My voice sounded strained. I don't know when the last time I had water was. It was been awhile since I'd been given anything. Was whoever had taken me trying to kill me with starvation? Or was he watching and getting off on watching me lose my mind? "Please stop! I can't play right now!" Then the flashing lights started. I didn't know if it was my captor or my mind, but it was overwhelming. My body locked up and I was stuck. I couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't breathe. The only things I could feel were the tears running down my cheeks. I was going to die in this pit. Not from some psychopathic killer, but from my own body.

"Sidney? Sidney, can you hear me?" The voice sounded far away.

"Is she responsive, Reid? What's that drawn next to her?" This was a different voice. A woman's voice.

"Sidney? You need to open your eyes. Can you move?" It was the first voice again.

"I can't play right now," I whispered. "Please don't make me play."

"You don't have to play, Sidney." I felt someone put my head on their lap and move my hair out of my face. It was different that when I felt something moving my arm to draw the piano keys. That felt real, but this was different. _Solid_.

"Is – it – over?" It was getting even harder to breathe. My uncle had died from alcohol detox. I was told it wasn't pleasant. Could this have been what he experienced?

"We need an oxygen mask," the person I was lying on yelled to whomever he was with. "It's over, Sidney. We're going to get you out of here. I need to ask you something."

"Uh-huh?"

"I found your prescription bottle. Is there anything else you take? Anything for epilepsy, schizophrenia?"

"Bipolar-disorder. Mania. Anxiety."

"How long?" My head felt too light. Why couldn't I speak? "Sidney, I need you to let me know how long." I tried to respond, but couldn't. A quiet whimper was all that escaped me. The person took my hand. "Are you able to squeeze my hand at all?" I tried and succeeded. "Good, Sidney. That's really good. How long?" It took a few moments, but I squeezed ten times.

"We're sending down the stretcher and harness. Will you be able to put her on it, Spencer," the female voice asked down.

"Just a second," he replied. His name was Spencer. Spencer was nice. "You meant to let me know ten, right? Once for 'yes', Sidney. Twice for 'no'." _One squeeze_ "Ten weeks?" _Two squeezes._ "Months?" _Two squeezes._ "Years?" _One Squeeze._ "Ten years. Okay. We're getting you out of here." He moved me only a flat surface that I assumed was the stretcher that had been mentioned, based on how it felt against my skin. A moment later, I could feel myself being lifted. Then I felt hands on me, prodding my skin, checking my pulse. It was too much.

"Spencer," I was able to get a whisper out.

"He's coming up," another male voice told me. "Reid, she's asking for you."

"I'm coming. We need to call ahead to the hospital and get a script ready for her. She's been on her medication for ten years. Her brain chemistry has changed and it's reliant on it now." Spencer knew what he was talking about. He was smart. Or he knew what it was like. Either way, it made me trust him more. I heard someone acknowledge what he said and then felt him take my hand.

"Spenc-"

"Don't try to talk, Sidney. I'll stay with you. We're taking you to the hospital now." Hearing this calmed me down and I was able to drift into the weightlessness.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Spencer  
_** I stayed in Sidney's room while she lied unconscious in the bed. The nurses had cleaned her up, but her color was off and she was quite bruised. I could see traces of tattoos under the sleeves of her gown, which peaked my curiosity, but I wasn't about to look while she wasn't awake.

"Spencer," I heard Hotchner greet as he walked into the room.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" I sat up straight in my chair, closing my laptop.

"Everything's fine. I just came to check on you. They say she should make a full recovery, so you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"I want to, sir. She's going to need someone to tell her what happened. And-"

"And she asked specifically for you. I heard. I just don't want you to feel like you have to stay."

"I understand. I really do want to. Something about her really stuck with me. Watching my mom as I was growing up, I've seen what suffering alone with mental illness can do to a person. Sidney has experienced a great trauma and I think I'm the only one of our team who can comfort her."

"Whatever you feel like you need to do. If you need anything, let us know."

"Thanks, Aaron." He nodded at me and then left the room.

I pulled my headphones out of my bag and plugged them into my laptop before searching Sidney's name. The university music department's page was at the top of the results, so I clicked on it. There were videos of performances and snippets of lectures. I found a video of Sidney playing at some sort of showcase and hit "play".

I'd always appreciated the piano for it's mathematical components, but watching her play helped me to visually see what passion for the music looked like. Once she got further into the song she was playing, her eyes closed and a look of serenity fell upon her face. I was impressed with her knowledge of the key placement, as she hit every note perfectly with closed eyes, though it was to be expected from a classically trained musician. This Sidney that I was watching on the screen was completely different than the scared girl who begged me not to make her play the keys carved in cement; the already fragile girl who had been completely shattered. It made me strange that I felt this attached.

 ** _Sidney  
_** I heard many voices and felt dozens of hands on me as I came in and out of consciousness. It was impossible to tell how long I was out, but I could tell that I was getting stronger both mentally and physically. When I was finally able to open my eyes, my room was dark aside from a dim light in the corner. I tried to sit up, but failed. I was still weak and there were so many different things attached to me. My effort caused one of the monitors to start beeping, which startled someone in a chair next to the wall and brought a nurse in.

"Easy, Sidney," the nurse said. She pressed a button on the side of the bed, which raised my upper half, before assisting me in comfortably sitting in an upright position. "I'm going to check some things now that you're up, okay?" I nodded and she turned on the light. I winced at how bright it was. She apologized and proceeded to check my heart rate and blood pressure. "Can you open your eyes for me, Sidney? And follow my finger?" I did as she asked and was happy to see a pleased look on her face as she wrote something down.

"Water," I croaked. I hadn't realized just how sore my throat was.

"Of course. I'll be right back." She smiled and left the room, leaving me alone with the man in the chair. I looked at him for a moment. His hair was long and wavy and there were dark circles under his eyes. The clothes he was wearing were disheveled, so I assumed he'd been with me for some time. I was confused until I remembered the last thing I'd said before passing out.

"Spencer." I cringed at how awful I sounded.

"We can talk in a moment. For now, let's wait until she brings you some water." I listened to him and we sat in an awkward silence, neither of us knowing where to look. I started picking at the dry skin around my fingernails, a nervous tick I'd had for as long as I could remember. Relief washed over me when the nurse came in with a cup and small pitcher of water.

"Use the straw, your arms are weak. We've had you on an IV since you got here, but your muscles are incredibly fatigued," she informed me. I listened and drank as fast as I could through the straw, relishing in the almost instant effect it had on my throat. The nurse, whose badge showed the name Donna, smiled as she refilled my cup. I drank slower this time. "Just hit that red button on the side of the bed if you need me."

"Thank you." My voice sounded ten times better. Once she was out of the room, I looked over at Spencer. "You're the reason I'm not dead."

"No. I'm just one person out of many who was able to narrow down certain criteria and facts to determine your abductor and location."

"I meant my meds. I remember you telling them that I was reliant on them."

"Oh, that. Yeah. I found the bottle in your bathroom."

"I don't know what to say other than thank you."

"Trust me. That's enough." He gave me a small smile. "Is there anything I can get for you? Anyone you want to call? We notified your emergency contact, Claire Dennison, and she's been in and out, checking up on you."

"As long as she knows I'm okay, I'm good. I assume the university has been notified."

"Yeah. We were told to call them when you woke up, but we can wait until the sun is up."

"I appreciate it. Can I ask a question that might sound rude, but I'm not intending for it to be?"

"You can ask me whatever you want."

"Why are you still here?"

"You called out for me," he simply stated. "And, to be completely honest, I felt somewhat connected to you." It made sense. I remembered thinking that he must have known so much about my dependence on my medicine from experience.

 ** _Spencer  
_** "You or someone you know," she asked, knowingly. I should feel uncomfortable from someone asking such a personal question, but I found myself replying without a second thought.

"Both, in a way. My mom is a paranoid schizophrenic. That's how I recognized your prescription. She had been given it years ago."

"And what about you?"

"Mild autism. Asperger's." Sidney nodded and I felt extremely vulnerable. It wasn't a feeling I was fond of.

"I won't ask such personal questions, then. I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable." A look of surprise crossed my face. It was like she knew what I was thinking. "Many of my best students have been diagnosed similarly. Some are better than others, socially, but I've learned that it's best to not push. It helps me, too, if I'm being completely honest."

"You're a very good musician and instructor. I watched a few of the videos on the university's page. Your lectures are engaging."

"I appreciate that." Sidney smiled at me before yawning.

"Get some rest. Your body is still recovering." I stood and began putting my things back into my bag.

"You're leaving?" Her face showed disappointment, though I could tell she was trying to look neutral.

"I don't have to. Would you like me to stay?"

"If you aren't too uncomfortable. I can understand if you're tired of that chair."

"Not at all. I'll stay with you." The look of gratitude on her face made me smile. After turning off the light and helping her lower her bed, I went to sit back in my chair.

"Would you mind moving a little closer to the bed? Now that I know that you're here, I'd feel a little better if you weren't so far away. I don't really want to feel alone while I sleep." I did as she asked, surprised at the feeling I got from knowing that she wanted me close to her.

"Just let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Thank you, Spencer. For everything." She reached over the side of the bed and put her hand on top of mine. I normally hated when anyone touched my hands, but it was different with Sidney. It felt comforting rather than irritating.

"Good night, Sidney." She smiled at me and then closed her eyes, not removing her hand from mine. I let her keep it there, telling myself I was doing it to help her feel safe and ignoring the fact that it made me feel at ease, too.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Sidney  
_** I didn't dream once I fell asleep, which felt like a gift. My mind had already betrayed me enough, so I didn't want it to show me anything else that would be upsetting. The light coming into the room eventually woke me up. I'd always been sensitive to it when I slept, choosing to wear an eye mask every night.

Remembering where the nurse and Spencer had pressed the night before, I found the button to lift my upper half. Spencer wasn't in the room, but I saw his bag was still there. I felt somewhat guilty keeping him. He was FBI. Surely someone else needed him more than I did, though I really didn't want to see him go.

Donna's shift must have ended, because another nurse named Alice came in to check on me. She asked me how my body felt, wanting to know if my overnight IV had helped my strength at all. I did feel a bit better, so we went through some arm and leg movements.

"Is it possible for me to take a shower," I asked, probably pushing my luck. I couldn't help it, though. They'd only wiped me down since arriving; I could still feel the sweat and grime on my skin like a disgusting shell. "I'll use a shower chair and someone can be in there with me or whatever you need. I just need to get clean. Please." I must have looked pathetic because she nodded and went to get the toiletries I'd need.

"You need to let me know if you feel lightheaded or anything that isn't normal. And I mean anything," Alice gave me a stern look once she was back in the room.

"I promise." She helped me remove the wires that were attached to me and then guided me out of bed. I leaned against my IV pole and Alice put an arm around my waist to help support me. It took me a second to get my footing, but once I had it, we walked the short distance to the bathroom. Alice helped me disrobe so I wouldn't tug the IV and then sat me on the plastic chair. She explained the shower faucet to me and I set the water temperature to where I wanted it before switching it over to the showerhead. Never before had I appreciated a shower so much.

 ** _Spencer  
_** My phone buzzed in my pocket continuously, waking me up. Sidney was still asleep, so I excused myself from the room to answer it. It was Emily.

"What's up, Emily?"

"Where are you? Are you still at the hospital?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine. She woke up last night and asked me to stay, so I did."

"Do you think you'll be back today? We have a briefing this afternoon. Aaron said we should give you some time, but we could really use you. It's like there's something in the air and all of the sickos are coming out of the woodwork."

"Um, yeah. We'll see. College Park is only an hour away from you guys, so I'm not far."

"Just try and make it."

"Yeah." I hung up and paced in the hall for a moment. I knew I had to get back to my job. It was an important job. But I hated the thought of leaving her alone. Her friend, Claire, was a high school teacher, so she wasn't able to stay long. Hospitals can be more unpleasant when you're alone.

I walked back into Sidney's room, surprised when I didn't see her in bed. A small amount of panic rose in me, but then I heard water running in the bathroom. Claire had brought a bag with some clothes, which I thought Sidney might appreciate more than a hospital gown.

"Um, excuse me," I said against the door as I knocked. A nurse I'd seen working the day shift before cracked the door open very slightly. I turned my head, even though I knew from the layout I wasn't able to see anything but the sink.

"Is something wrong, Dr. Reid?"

"No, not at all. I just thought Sidney might prefer a change of clothes to a hospital gown. That is, if she's able." I held the small bag up.

"That's very thoughtful of you. Thank you, Dr. Reid." The nurse took the bag from my hand and shut the door. I sat back down in my seat and waited.

Connecting with people was something that had never come easy for me. While I knew their emotions were valid, it was rare for me to understand them. I'd gotten better over the years, but it wasn't something I'd mastered, which is why I was always surprised when I _was_ able to connect easily. Was this how most people were able to feel?

The bathroom door opened about twenty minutes later. Sidney walked back to her bed with the help of the nurse. Her hair was towel dried and pulled to one side, dampening her black tank top, and she was wearing blue plaid pajama pants. She looked much better.

I was able to get a better look at the tattoos I'd noticed earlier as she got back into bed. From her shoulder down midway to her elbow was a musical collage of sorts. She had a piano, some bars of music that I was able to tell were from _Clair de Lune_ , and a portrait of a man just to name a few. It seemed that every time I looked at her, I noticed something new. She saw me looking at her and gave me a small smile. I returned it and waited to say anything until after her blood pressure was taken and the nurse left the room.

"Who is that on your arm," I asked. She looked down, as if she'd forgotten she had anything on her.

"Oh, that's Cole Porter. He's my favorite songwriter."

"What's your favorite song?"

"That's hard to say. "It's De-Lovely" was the first song of his I ever heard, so it has a special place in my heart. And then "So in Love" is just beautiful. Have you heard it?"

"I can't say that I have."

"Do you mind if I pull it up on your computer? Ella Fitzgerald does an incredible rendition."

"Not at all." I handed her my laptop stood next to the bed. She looked at me standing and adjusted the railing so it wasn't blocking the edge of the mattress.

"You can sit next to me if it won't make you uncomfortable."

"Alright." I sat down and watched as she brought the video up. When the song began, I noticed that Sidney closed her eyes. The corners of her mouth raised, creating a peaceful smile. Her fingers moved along with the song and I knew she was hitting invisible keys. I watched her until the song ended.

"See what I mean?"

"Beautiful," I replied. She and the song were beautiful.

 ** _Sidney  
_** Spencer watched videos with me until his phone started buzzing. He looked at his text message and sighed. I knew he had to leave and I let him know that I understood. It had been selfish of me to keep him so long, anyway.

"Spencer?" He paused from packing his messenger bag and looked at me.

"Yeah?"

"Can we keep in touch? I don't know if it's against the rules for you to stay in contact with people you save, but if it's not, I'd really like to still be able to talk to you."

"I would like that, too. Here's my card." He just stared at me, a small smirk on his face.

"Are you going to actually give it to me," I laughed, wondering what he was doing.

"I did. Check behind your ear." I did as he said and burst out laughing. Sure enough, his card was there. How I didn't feel it, I didn't know.

"You know magic," I asked, still laughing.

"I know a lot of things. Call or text me whenever you want." He gave me one last smile before leaving the room.

I was released from the hospital three days later. Claire picked me up and drove me back to my apartment, which I appreciated. She had been my best friend for eight years. We met in a college study group and bonded over our love of music and books. Neither of us were the partying type, so we spent our weekends going to jazz clubs or cafes. She was the only person I could trust with anything.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay here with you," she asked me when I told her I was going to get ready for bed.

"I'm sure. And besides, tomorrow is Monday. You have to teach our future leaders."

"I wouldn't call them that," she laughed. "Call me if you need anything."

"You know I always do. Thank you for bringing me home."

"Thank you for still being alive." She threw her arms around me and squeezed. I hugged her back, thankful more than ever for her friendship.

Once I locked the door behind Claire, I stood in my living room, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. I could feel the anxiety creeping in. I hadn't been completely by myself since the pit and I hadn't expected to feel this freaked out by it.

To try and make myself feel better, I checked every window to make sure it was locked and closed the curtains so no one could see inside. I then climbed into bed and hoped the fear would pass. When it didn't, I grabbed my phone off of my nightstand. I hadn't called Spencer since he had to leave the hospital, not wanting to seem clingy, but I felt like it was now an appropriate time. My heart sank as the rings were cut off by his voicemail.

"Hey, Spencer. It's Sidney. I hope you're doing well and continuing to kick crime's ass. I was just calling because it's my first night alone since you and your team rescued me and I'm feeling a little overwhelmed by it. I was hoping to talk to you for a moment, but talking to your voicemail actually isn't so bad. Call me back whenever you're able. Maybe we can meet up sometime when you're not busy. G'night." I hung up and sighed before turning on my TV, hoping the noise would distract me from how scared I felt.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Spencer  
_** A case that we'd been briefed on involved an unsub who was abducting couples and decapitating them before attaching the heads to the other's body. It was one of the more gruesome cases we'd been on in awhile and it had us flying out to Nevada. I wanted to let Sidney know that I wouldn't be available very much, but Morgan told me to wait until she reached out to me. He seemed to know what he was doing when it came to women, so I listened.

The town where the murders were happening wasn't very large, with a population of just over five thousand. Whoever was responsible for them seemed to get a kick out of placing the bodies in public places. There had been four so far.

"These couples can't be chosen at random," JJ said as we were going over the files on the plane. "Someone who puts this much effort into the presentation of the bodies has to have some sort of type he's going after, but these couples are all different from the last. Some are parents, some childless, religious, Hispanic. One couple had even been married to other people before."

"It seems," I began, "that his placing the head on the opposite gender's body is symbolic of something. With the unsub setting the bodies in public places, it has to be. Why go through the effort if it doesn't mean something?"

"Garcia," Aaron said to the screen showing Penelope's face, "look into the couples' work histories. If it is symbolic, the unsub may be doing this because he feels they aren't abiding by his idea of social rules. See if any of the women had outranking positions to their husbands, or if any of the men were unemployed."

"I'm on it, boss man." Her eyes went to her screen and typing could be heard. She looked through her results for a moment and then looked satisfied. "You're like a magic 8 ball, sir. Correct as always. The Mendez couple met when the missus was the mister's supervisor. He later resigned, probably because of company policy, and they married shortly after. The Steins, Mary was a pastor while David stayed home with the kids. And with the other two, the women just made more annually. Looks like we have a vigilante misogynist on our hands."

"Thank you, Garcia. Look into other couples in the area who are married with the wife having the superior position. Maybe we can narrow down who the next target might be and work on protecting them."

"That'll take a bit, but I have caffeine and sugar, so I'll get right on it. Let me know if you have any other parameters you'd like to include. Peace out, girl scouts." She closed out her webcam and we were left to build a profile.

It was 8pm when we finally landed and I turned my phone off of airplane mode. A notification showed me that I had a voicemail and I felt bad when I learned that it was from Sidney and I'd missed her call. We were three hours behind, so it was fairly late back home. I'd have to call her in the morning. Letting out a disappointed sigh, I put my phone back in my pocket and caught up with the rest of the team, who were walking some feet ahead of me.

 ** _Sidney  
_** The university had given me leave until after Spring Break had ended, giving me three weeks before I had to go back on campus. I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I would obviously play my piano, but I wasn't obsessive enough to play the entire time I was off. Claire's Spring Break didn't overlap mine, so I couldn't hang out with her throughout the day. I decided to try and pass the time by joining a gym, hoping it would also help to relieve stress.

I'd never been one for exercising. Genetics were in my favor and I had a fast metabolism, so I'd always been on the slimmer side, but I wasn't very strong at all. When I noticed the boxing class on the gym's class schedule, I decided to go to it. It wouldn't hurt to gain a little muscle and learn some defensive moves as well.

My first class almost ended up being my last. I was terrible compared to the others and it was very discouraging. It wasn't until after the instructor talked to me after class that I decided to stick with it.

"Sidney, right? You're the only name I didn't recognize on the sign in sheet."

"Yeah, that's me."

"You don't seem very happy with the class."

"It's not the class itself. Just how I did in it."

"You did really well." I gave him a skeptical look. He was full of shit and we both knew it. "Okay, I could tell it was your first class, but you weren't the worst I've seen."

"That makes me feel a bit better. Any pointers?"

"Get closer to the bag and put your body into the punch. You'll have better accuracy if your arm doesn't have as far to go as far and you'll have a harder impact when there's the force of your body going along with it. Give it a try." He handed me the gloves and I put them back on before doing as he'd said. The result was much better than anything I'd done in class.

"It worked!"

"It's like I know what I'm doing," the instructor joked.

"It seems that you do. What was your name again? I'm sorry I didn't catch it the first time."

"You're fine. I'm Chris Hensley. I'm one of the owners of this place."

"That's awesome! It seems to be doing really well."

"It is. What about you? What do you do?"

"I'm a professor at the University of Maryland College Park."

"An instructor? You look more like a student."

"I'll take that as a compliment. It seems like I know what I'm doing, too. I teach music history and piano."

"Nice. I'll have to check out a concert sometime. You've checked out my turf, it's only fair I check out yours." He smiled at me and I became aware of what was happening. He was flirting with me. I wasn't sure how to respond. He wasn't my normal type, and I already had a crush on Spencer, but he was definitely good looking and seemed nice enough. I wasn't great when it came to flirting, so I didn't say a lot in response.

"Totally." Real smooth. My phone started ringing and saved me from making a fool out of myself. "See you next time, Chris." I grabbed my phone out of my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and left the room before answering. "Hello?"

"Sidney? It's Spencer."

"Hey! I'm glad you called. What are you up to?"

"I'm with the team in Nevada trying to find a murderer who's swapping the heads of his victims."

"Wow. That sounds infinitely more interesting than my morning."

"It is a pretty unique situation." I couldn't help but smile at his seriousness. "What did you do with your morning?"

"I tried boxing for the first time."

"Really? Did you enjoy it?"

"I'm hopeful that I'll enjoy the next class. I didn't do very well this time, but the instructor gave me some pointers for the next class. I'm pretty confident I could effectively punch a very weak person."

"That's quite impressive," he laughed. I could hear someone yell behind him, though I couldn't hear what they said. "I have to go. We may have a lead."

"Okay. I hope you find your killer soon."

"So do I. I'll call you when I get home, if that's alright with you."

"Of course it is. I look forward to it. Bye, Spencer."

"Goodbye, Sidney."

 ** _Spencer_**  
It was four days before we were able to catch our unsub. It ended up being one of the town's physicians. He did all of his cutting and stitching with his less dominant hand so they would look sloppy, but he made the mistake of using his surgical thread, which we were able to trace back to a distributer from whom the unsub regularly ordered.

It was rather late when our plane landed, but I still dialed Sidney's number. I thought I was going to get her voicemail, but she eventually picked up. She sounded tired, but insisted that we meet up for a late dinner. I offered to drive to her, but she said she was already in her car and would meet me at my apartment. When we hung up, I texted her my address and took a quick shower. Just as I finished redressing, there was a knock on my door.

Whenever I saw her, a grin found a home on my face. I moved aside to let her enter my apartment. She'd curled her hair, which fell loosely and looked quite nice. Her shirt stuck out to me. It had a framed portrait of Jean-Luc Picard from Star Trek printed on it.

"You prefer Picard to Kirk," I asked.

"Definitely. There's something about Sir Patrick Stewart that appeals to me more than William Shatner. Don't get me wrong, Captain Kirk is an interesting character, but Picard is much more elegant."

"I would have to agree."

"Good, because that could have been a deal breaker for our friendship." I could tell by her playful tone that she was joking. "I like the way you dress." Her comment caught me off guard.

"Um, thank you."

"I'm sorry for the random subject change. Sometimes I think out loud. But I really do like how you dress. Your style works for you. Very sophisticated." I looked down at the clothing I'd chosen. It was nothing out of the ordinary for me – just some slacks, a button down with a tie, and a cardigan – but I was flattered, nonetheless.

"I appreciate your approval."

"No problem. So what places are around here are have good food?"

"Do you happen to like Indian food?"

"I do, in fact, like it. I don't get the chance to eat it much, though. There aren't any particularly good restaurants near me."

"Then I know where we're going. We can walk from here." I put on my jacket and led the way to my favorite Indian restaurant, which was just a few blocks away from my home. Sidney and I talked a bit. I told her about the case we'd just finished and she told me about how she'd taken a few more boxing classes and even went to a painting class. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and showed me a picture of her finished piece. It was an abstract portrait of a woman done with a pleasing color palette.

We were seated right away and ordered shortly after looking over the menu. Sidney seemed to know what she was talking about when informing the waiter how she wanted her food prepared and I was impressed by it. No one from my team had been willing to even try this place, so it was refreshing to come with someone who appreciated it.

As we talked and ate our meals, I couldn't help but notice how tired Sidney seemed. She was yawning often and fidgeting in her seat. Something seemed off.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why do you – ask?" A yawn had broken up her sentence and she looked embarrassed. "I'm not hiding it, am I?"

"Not at all. What's wrong?"

"I just haven't been sleeping well. Being alone at night making me more anxious than normal now and it's affecting my sleep."

"How much have you gotten over the last few days?" She thought for a moment before she answered, another look of embarrassment showing on her face.

"Just a couple of hours a night. Four at the most."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier or when we talked the other day?"

"It's not your problem, Spencer. I didn't want to bother you with it."

"You can let me know anything that's bothering you. I understand."

"You do?"

"Yeah. Let's finish our meals and I'll tell you about it back at my place." If I expected her to be honest with me, I needed to be honest with her about my own experiences.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Sidney  
_** I sat on Spencer's couch, hugging my knees, as he told me of his own abduction. I watched him as he spoke, but he just looked forward at the wall. By the time he got to the part of his story where he told of how he had to kill Tobias, tears were escaping my eyes and I felt nauseous. He talked of his resulting addiction and his fears that he would fail to stay away even though he had for years.

"Would it be okay if I hugged you?" I didn't want to make him even more uncomfortable after he'd made himself vulnerable like that. He nodded and I embraced him. He was the strongest person I'd ever met. "I don't know how you still do the job that you do. I'm not sure I could."

"I try to use it to my advantage. What I felt motivates me to try and help others so they don't have to feel the same way. I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep it happening to you. There were three women before you and we were so close to figuring out who our unsub was. Then you were taken and we knew we only had a matter of time."

"What matters is that you found me."

"I'm glad we did. I'm enjoying this friendship."

"As am I." We smiled at each other and I let out yet another yawn. "I'd better get back home. See if I have any luck sleeping tonight." I started to stand.

"You can sleep here tonight, if you'd like. I can stay out here on the couch and you can have the bed."

"That isn't necessary, Spencer, really. I'm not going to kick you out of your bed."

"I really don't mind. I have some things to go over for work, so I'll be up out here for awhile, anyway. "

"I would feel better knowing someone else was close." I thought it over for a moment. I was exhausted, there was no ignoring it. "You sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all."

"Okay. I have some clothes in my car. I'm pretty sure I folded some pajama pants at the laundromat. I'll be right back." I excused myself from his apartment and went to grab my things out of my car. If I was the type of person to believe in fate or destiny or divine intervention, I would say that Spencer and I were supposed to meet. I wasn't that type of person, though, so I was just truly grateful that our paths had crossed, regardless of the circumstances.

It was the first night since I'd been released from the hospital that I slept through the night. I felt like I could have slept much longer, but the light shining into the room and the smell of coffee coming from outside the door woke me. After stretching and finger-combing my hair, I left the bedroom.

Spencer was reading at his kitchen table, his free hand holding a coffee mug. He was already dressed for the day and looked well-rested. When he saw me, he set his book down and rose from the table to grab another mug out of his cabinet.

"How do you like your coffee?"

"Just a bit of sugar, please." I pulled out the chair opposite his and sat down.

"Did you sleep well," he asked as he handed me my mug.

"I slept wonderfully. I owe you."

"I'm happy to have helped. I have to leave for work, but you're more than welcome to stay here. We could get lunch."

"I'd like that."

"I'll call you when I have a break. Towels are in the hall closet if you'd like to shower. I'll see you in a few hours." He put his messenger bag over his shoulder, gave me a wave, and left. I was impressed and appreciative of his hospitality.

 ** _Spencer  
_** It was a slower day for the team and me, which was a rarity. We were consulting with local authorities on a case that involved more research on the suspect than anything. They had someone in custody that was essentially nonexistent. No family history, medical history, work, banking info, and so on. He was as off the grid as a person could get, which didn't give us a lot to work with. Derek and Rossi were interrogating him while JJ and I worked on trying to figure out just who he was with Penelope.

"I'm going to see if I can match his face with any missing persons or prison databases. Might as well start with the heavy stuff," Penelope sighed. She hated not having much info to go off of, as did we all. "And now we wait." She swiveled in he chair and faced me and JJ.

"How long," JJ asked.

"It's going to be a minute. I'm searching nationally since we have nothing to go on. Anyone want to get a bite?"

"Love to."

"I actually have plans." They both just stared at me. "What?"

"You never have plans during work hours," Penelope replied. "Is something wrong? Are you going to the doctor?"

"No, not at all. Am I not allowed to have plans?"

"Not that we don't know about."

"It's that girl, isn't it? The one who you stayed at the hospital with." Of course JJ would know. Even when I didn't say anything, she always seemed to know.

"What? Why does no one tell me these things? I want to meet her. Come on, we're going to pick her up." Penelope picked up her bag and stood, JJ following suit.

"What? No. _We_ aren't doing anything. She and I are going to get lunch."

"Oh, come on, Spence! You never even talk about any girls that you're seeing, let alone leave work to have lunch with them."

"We're not seeing each other. She's my friend and she's having a hard time. I'm trying to be a good friend."

"Be a good friend to me and let me meet her. Please?" She pouted her lip at me while JJ chuckled.

"Fine. Let me see if it's okay with her." She and JJ high-fived as I pulled out my phone to call Sidney. who answered on the third ring. When I told her about Penelope and JJ wanting to meet her, she sounded excited. I was a little surprised, but happy, that she was open to meeting my coworkers and friends.

JJ drove to my apartment, she and Garcia talking during the short drive. Both were speculating how long it would be before I finally revealed that Sidney and I were really a couple. Despite them being completely incorrect, I knew better than to give a retort. They often liked to tease me. It wasn't done maliciously, I knew.

I unlocked my door to find Sidney sitting on my couch, reading my copy of _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_. She'd changed into jeans and a Star Wars sweatshirt and put her hair in a high bun. It allowed me to notice her high cheekbones and long neck. She sat my book down on the seat next to her and stood.

"Are you sure that you're okay with them coming along?"

"Of course! I'm excited to meet them. It'll be nice to talk to girls over the age of 21." She smiled what I was learning to be her signature grin at me.

Lunch went incredibly well. Sidney and Garcia got along right away. There was never an awkward or silent moment with them. JJ and I chimed in from time to time, but we mainly listened and observed. While the other two were deep in discussion over which was the best Doctor in Doctor Who, JJ leaned over to me.

"She's very nice."

"We're just friends," I clarified.

"I know. We were just messing with you earlier. I'm just letting you know what I think."

"Well, I do always value your opinion."

"I know." She winked at me and went back to listening to the Doctor debate.

 ** _Sidney  
_** Penelope and I were kindred spirits. She was passionate and quirky and I could tell immediately that we were going to be friends. When she invited me to see where they all worked, I gave Spencer a questioning look. Aside from recitals, I was always weary when people I knew came and watched me work. I didn't want to intrude. I was relieved when he gave me a small nod. I accepted her invitation, curious to see where they worked together to catch killers.

As soon as we walked into their area of the building, an older, dark haired man came walking over. His face looked stern and I was quite intimidated by him.

"Good, you're back. JJ, Spencer, I need you in the conference room. Garcia, we'll need you to cross-reference some new parameters. Ms. Marque." He nodded at me before turning and walking away.

"Is he always that intense," I asked. They said "yes" in unison.

"That's Aaron Hotchner. He's the best there is," Spencer told me.

"You can come down with me," Penelope offered. I didn't have my car, I wasn't very familiar with the area, and, in all honesty, I wanted to see what a normal day was like for them, so I agreed. I waved at Spencer and followed her to her office.

I sat in a chair out of her webcam's view and watched as everything unfolded. Apparently Morgan and Rossi had gotten some info out of their suspect that could help them figure out who he really was. Hotchner asked Penelope if she'd found anything in her research and, after she clicked through a few things, she gave him an enthusiastic "yes".

"I got a hit from a Florida prison. Photo matches that of an Elijah Henderson, arrested for arson and attempted murder in '05."

"That lines up with what he let slip," I heard Rossi say. "Something about how he should've stayed to watch the flames."

They dove into their planning of how to get the guy to confess and I was so intrigued. Each of them played ideas off of each other so quickly that it was almost hard to follow. It was impressive and made me wish I were half as smart as these people.

"Reid, Emily, you're with me. Hopefully new faces with throw him off. Garcia, see if you can find anything that puts him at the scene. Street camera, store footage, whatever you can find. Morgan, Rossi, and JJ, you go to the scene of the last murder and see if you can find anything we may have missed." With that, everyone got to work.

"Now the magic happens," she turned and grinned at me.

"And this is how it always is?"

"More or less, yeah."

"Kudos to you guys. This is getting my adrenaline going. I don't think I could do this every day."

"Well, it was either this or prison for me, so it's not so bad. Some days are better than others, but I can't see myself doing anything else."

"Does everyone here have some sort of crazy story of how they ended up here?"

"Pretty much. I think it's why we all get along so well."

I stayed with Penelope and watched as the events unfolded over the next few hours. These people were amazing. Each person had some characteristic that made the team complete. Just after sunset, Penelope found what she needed to place him at one of the scenes. She sent the image of a man taken by a street cam to everyone. Had the photo been taken just a second later, his face would have been turned too much to positively identify him. With this information, they were able to get a confession.

Penelope went with me to wait at Spencer's desk until they got back. She grilled me a little bit on what my intentions with him were, and, since I felt comfortable with her, I was honest. When she seemed satisfied, she changed the subject and asked what my Hogwarts House was.

Spencer looked tired and a little surprised to see me when he returned. He confessed that he thought I would have gotten bored and left hours before. When I told him how enthralled I'd been, he seemed happy. Penelope drove us back to his apartment, giving me her phone number before I got out of the car so we could plan a movie date. I was happy to have made another new friend.

"Thank you for letting me stay here last night." I picked up a tote bag I'd brought in from my car the previous night, as well as my keys.

"You're welcome to stay another night if you'd like. It's kind of late."

"I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't okay with it." Had it been anyone else, I may have been hesitant, but I knew Spencer was being honest.

"I'd like that. Thank you. I'll sleep on the couch tonight. It's only fair." He agreed and went to get a blanket and pillow for me. "Just so you know," I began when he came back, "you're pretty incredible. I already knew you were, but seeing you in action today just confirmed it." Blood flooded to his cheeks. I'd embarrassed him.

"Thank you. I try to do my best every time."

"It shows. Good night, Spencer." He smiled in return, still embarrassed, and went to his bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Spencer_**

Sidney went home the next morning after joining me for breakfast. I could tell that she was nervous about it, so I told her to get a hold of me if she needed to talk. She thanked me with a hug and kissed my cheek. We both had a slight blush as she left.

All eyes were on me as I walked into the conference room at work. Garcia was grinning as JJ laughed at her expression.

"So it seems that you've become quite the ladies' man," Morgan suggested.

"Yeah, Spence. Going on a date and having her meet some of your friends already. You're moving pretty fast," Emily added.

"If you're talking about yesterday with Sidney, that wasn't a date. Further, Penelope and JJ invited themselves along. And I'm not courting multiple women, so to give the title of ladies' man, assuming it's meant in the standard plural form, couldn't be more incorrect." I removed my bag from over my shoulder and took a seat. Emily rolled her eyes at me while Morgan gave a small chuckle.

"We're just giving you a hard time," he said.

"Yeah. Just poking a little fun. But we're all totally supportive if you do actually have a crush on this girl." Emily's words weighed on me. Was that what it was? Did I have a crush on Sidney? Rossi and Hotch walked in a moment later, cutting my thoughts short.

After the briefing, we were told we'd be leaving for Wyoming. I grabbed the bag I always kept packed from under my desk and tried calling Sidney. She didn't answer, probably still driving, so I left her a voicemail letting her know that I'd be gone for a few days.

Once comfortable on the plane, we started to try and come up with a profile. A serial killer in Cheyenne was targeting people at what appeared to be random, so we needed to put together why. The killings were messy and excessive, which lead us to believe that the attacks weren't premeditated, but each crime scene was clean of any evidence that may point to a suspect, giving the possibility that they were aware of the chance of losing control and traveled with the means to conceal identity. JJ looked at me with a frown before suggesting the unsub suffered from schizophrenia that was progressing. She knew the odds of me having it were always at the back of my mind.

"Generally, those experiencing progressing schizophrenia wouldn't be of sound enough mind to remember to intentionally carry gloves and bleach on them at all times. If schizophrenia is what we're dealing with, it has to be pretty advanced to cause our unsub to go into killing fits. To have those breaks of clarity and awareness of their actions between the symptoms would, statistically, require a high IQ," I informed. I was painfully aware of the affects on someone such as myself from years of research and experience.

"What if it's not progressing? What if they've been like this for years and the rage from the awareness in the moments of lucidity that their paranoia or hallucinations aren't real finally caused them to snap?" Emily's question caused me to roll my eyes.

"It doesn't work that way. If they've been sick for years and were able to separate the real from the fake and not kill in all that time, what would cause them to start now? If they were able to go years without killing, odds are they were on some sort of medication. And even if, for whatever reason, they're no longer medicated, they're still aware of their actions and what they're capable of. I think we should look at other possibilities as to why our unsub is losing control."

"Spencer, I know this is a touchy subject for you, but we can't rule it out just because of that. You know that all of us know better than to assume everyone with schizophrenia is completely out of their minds. We know that each person is different. So if you're getting upset because you're worried about your own health and because the unsub could possibly have similar intelligence to you, you need to put it aside. We'll keep thinking of other options, but so far, this is our best one." JJ gave me a stern look and I knew there was no going against her.

"Fine. I'll try to get over it." I rose from my chair and moved to one away from the group, case files in hand. I would just think of other possibilities on my own.

We were a couple of hours into our flight when Morgan sat down next to me. No one had spoken to me since I'd moved. I tried to ignore him and continued to write down ideas, but he wasn't going to let that happen.

"Come on, Spencer. Look at me." I sighed and put my pen down.

"What?"

"You're projecting and you know it. You've gotta actually try to push it aside."

"Morgan-"

"Let me talk. It's no secret that you're scared. We all understand and we're here for you, but JJ's right. We have to look into this possibility, regardless of the fact that it's not a far stretch that you could find yourself in a similar situation if you're ever diagnosed. Instead of thinking of the 'what ifs', we need you thinking of what's actually happening. Now be real with me. Can you think of anything that would be more plausible?" I hated when he made more sense than me.

"I've only been able to think of one thing. Some sort of unique team. One has the fits of rage and kills and the other cleans it up. They would have to be very close since the cleaner is with the killer every time. Either way, mental illness still factors into it. We've either got a solo killer or a killer/caretaker duo."

"Okay then. We'll give both profiles and have Garcia run separate searches for each possibility.

"Sounds good." I gave him a nod and then a confused look when he didn't leave.

"So, man to man, what's going on with the girl? With Sidney?"

"We're just spending time together. She was having trouble sleeping, so I let her stay at my place for a couple of nights. I like talking to her, so I invited her to lunch, and then JJ and Penelope invited themselves along."

"You have to like her to let her stay with you. You already said you like talking to her. Do you think she's pretty?"

"Yeah, but-"

"But nothing. You care about her wellbeing, you like talking to her, you're attracted to her. You like her."

"I suppose I do." I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling uncomfortable.

"Don't be embarrassed by it. Does she like you, too?"

"Maybe? She told me I was incredible last night and then kissed me on the cheek this morning when she left."

"That's great, man! Since I know you probably have no clue what to do now, I'm gonna give you some tips." He grinned, feeling quite in his element, I'm sure.


End file.
